Keep up the guesses about who it was last chapter. It's not an oc, I'll say that much. Also yes, Cass and Kahn are the couple from chapter 30 who Orion caught at the end.

You know, I finally started volume six, and I like it. RWBY's a fun show. I think a lot of the criticism it gets is very valid, but the negativity can be overblown. It's a show to enjoy. Some things, you ought to just enjoy.

Although it did drop off after Vol 3. I remember watching 4 and being like wut nothing happened. Then volume 5 just sorta existed (omg u turned them into birdssss? how eeeevil). Had some good moments. I actually really liked all the reunion scenes and stuff, touching. RWBY shines when the characters interact and when the fights are tight. It's a show to have fun with, and I think a lot of people get too critical for their own good. Tho all the maiden stuff and silver eye stuff could be handled better… or done away with. And so much feels rushed or slapped in last minute. Nevertheless, I have a lot of respect for all the creators. I think ultimately the strongest thing about RWBY is the world and the characters, not so much the plot. I want to check out the manga they're making cause I hear it's a bit different, and it may have the benefit of years of discourse and hindsight to pull off the plot better.

Tho somehow rwby chibi is sorta better than base RWBY.

I've always believed that if you don't like a story, you can give your feedback, but you ultimately have to accept that it's your own opinion. If you don't like a story, you can just make one yourself. That what I'm doing here; NATWWAL is a response not just to RWBY and how I'd like it, but a lot of fics I've read and the tropes they employ, especially other popular fics in the RWBYxFallout crossover category.

But my end advice: just relax and enjoy things.

It crashed through whatever dream she'd been having and forced her into the world of the living. A primordial part of herself instantly decided to destroy whatever was the source of the annoying buzz that had woken her up from a sound night of sleep.

"Wake up!"

And now she was even more annoyed.

Weiss growled and sat up, her moisturizing facemask shaking off and falling onto her silk duvet from the sudden movement. She crossed her arms and glared at the errant awakener.

Ruby stood in the middle of their dorm, hands on her hips and already fully dressed. The stupid girl wore a stupid grin.

Weiss's glare was also partly a squint, as the unkind lights had been switched on. She looked and saw the shattered moon low on the horizon, with only the beginning haze of twilight alluding to the night's end.

"I'm going to kill you." The threat came from none other than Yang, who now glared at her sister through a messy covering of her own hair, which always got hopelessly tossed at night.

"Nope!" Ruby cheered happily.

Gods, I want to wipe that stupid smile off her face.

Instead of attack, however, Weiss only sighed, then reached her hands up to rub some of the exhaustion out of her eyes. It would be pointless to try and get through this pest's indomitable will, so might as well accept it and move on.

"Why on earth have you woken us up at this ungodly hour?" Weiss asked.

Yang growled from her bunk, and Blake narrowed her eyes at her team leader.

Oblivious to (or perhaps simply uncaring of) her team's antipathy, Ruby explained herself: "Today is the day of our first mission! We're heading out to a village along the outskirts to clear up a beowolf pack—"

"We are aware," Weiss interrupted, "as to what our missions is." Her words seethed. "I will reiterate the question: why have you woken us up at this ungodly hour?" She reached for her scroll under her pillow, and when she checked the time, seeing that it was five in the morning made her that much angrier.

Ruby only shook her head and smiled. "Because we've got to be ready! This is our first mission we're talking about here! There won't ever be another first! Come on you guys!" She jumped up and down excitedly. "We got to get ready! Get to the gym, get limber and prepped and warmed up!"

"Ugh, the flight will be hours and we won't even get there until the afternoon," Yang complained with a groan. "And then we won't even be doing anything but settling in at our motel. What the hell are we getting ready for? Naps on the bullhead?"

"A huntress must always be prepared!" Ruby replied. She raised a dramatically clenched fist in the air and declared: "And we are true huntresses!"

Her rousing speech was met with silence.

A few awkward seconds passed, before Blake sighed. "Fine," she said. "I call the first shower."

"Now that's the spirit!" Ruby said.

Weiss yawned and wished idly that her runt partner wasn't always so enthusiastic.

Yang immediately began to try and argue with Blake about why, in fact, she should get the first shower, essentially all of her points resting on how it took an hour to properly prepare her golden hair. Blake silently slid into the bathroom and slammed the door, however, and that was that.

The familiar ritual made Weiss smile.

Ruby hopped down on the bed beside her, and a small part of Weiss was intensely enraged by the prospect of her silken duvet being reduced to a seat cushion; but she took a deep breath and let it go. Being paired with Ruby Rose had extraordinarily developed her patience.

She waited for Ruby to say something else to her, as the girl so often did. She'd ask her how she slept, what they'd have for breakfast, what they'd practice before they go and what, exactly, her facemask even did.

Weiss turned her head away and braced herself for the conversation… but it didn't happen.

A few seconds passed, and when Weiss looked, she saw that Ruby was on her scroll. Her teammate wasn't even looking at her.

She leaned over to glance at the screen, and it made her scowl.

"Texting Jaune?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

"Nah," Ruby replied. "He's busy with the mission and hasn't texted me since he left. I'm just looking through our old convos…" Ruby slid her finger across the screen, scrolling up through the text history.

Weiss's scowl deepened.

Ruby's smile faded, and she bit on her lip. "I hope he's okay… the mission's a really dangerous one."

"Hmph," Weiss pouted, then looked away.

She would never call it jealousy, but she could admit to frustration. Ever since the dance a couple days prior, practically the only thing Ruby had been able to talk about was Jaune. Jaune this, Jaune that. His name dominated everything since then. And Weiss suspected it would continue to dominate many conversations into the future.

Now she'd confess he wasn't as terrible a person she'd initially assumed. Their spats had become gradually less venomous to the point that now their mutual contempt had become mutual apathy. They existed around one another and although they still bickered, both now knew there wasn't much real hatred behind the words.

But gods damn it, he's messed this up.

Weiss glanced out of the corner of her eye, saw Ruby still looking over her scroll anxiously.

I would prefer if you acknowledged my existence.

Weiss only huffed and got out of bed. She flung her facemask in the trash and sat down at her desk, then arranged the makeup she'd use for the day. As she mechanically selected the proper applications, her thoughts nagged her nevertheless.

Jaune was a brute. He was crass and simple. She still remembered the way he'd talked about sawing someone in half. She still remembered the way he mistreated everyone at the beginning of the year.

But then she remembered how happy he made Ruby. She remembered how he risked his life to save others. She remembered his brief story about how hellish his past had been and how hard he'd worked to move past it.

Recalling all of that, she clenched her jaw and stewed, able to neither hate nor feel pity.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw that the best friend she'd ever had was continuing to ignore her in favor of fawning over her boyfriend. She quickly turned away and busied herself with her morning routine.

Whatever, she didn't care much at all.

It was a village. A genuine underground town.

He emerged into a large, well-lit cavern. Strong lights drilled into the wall and ceiling, messes of wire stringing them together, shone down on a little town center.

The open space of the cave was crammed with ramshackle stalls, little storefronts made of old metal, concrete and tarps, all clearly salvaged from the ruins above. His wasteland eye told him that even if it all seemed cramped and recycled, it was actually fairly organized and clean. Nothing, despite being old and busted, was grimy or dirty or haphazard. Many stalls took up this tight little market square. Most of them were empty dark now, with only a few people milling around.

Looking up, Jaune saw that the cavern was quite tall, tall enough for there to be a second story along the walls of the cave, with ramshackle scaffolding holding up more people and tables talking outside what may have been apartments; he also saw many more entrances and doors to different rooms and passages.

"Arf!"

Jaune started and looked down, where he saw a skinny little dog had bounded up to him. It looked up at him intently, tail folded down between its hind legs. It growled lightly.

"Sparky get here!"

Jaune looked up and saw a little girl come out from a narrow passageway. She had a smile on her face from chasing the dog, but the moment she saw Jaune, that smile dropped.

The dog looked back at the child, then looked at Jaune, then growled at him again before sprinting back to the girl. Quickly, the child—looking quite distraught by the sight of Jaune—ran back down the hall with the dog beside.

And she wasn't alone. The other citizens in the cramped cave, both those on the scaffolding and down on amidst the stalls, looked at him; on their faces came clear surprise, then nervousness.

Victor came up beside him and said, "This is it. This is the real life of what's left of Mountain Glenn."

"Huh."

With Victor beside him and speaking with him, the others' nervousness receded; some of the citizens walked away, while other cautiously waved.

Hesitantly, he waved back.

"Yeah, people here aren't used to newcomers," Victor said.

"Arf!"

Jaune turned and saw the dog had come back from the narrow passage to bark at him, and behind it the girl nervously looked his way.

"Yeah," he said, "I could tell."

He turned his attention back to the village, however. Mountain Glenn. Or what remained. Again, he was hit by a wave of familiarity, even nostalgia. The build of the place reminded him of just about everywhere he'd been in the wasteland. All the building material was old and scavenged. The peoples' clothes were dull and sometimes a bit tattered. It all had a wear to it. The only thing that differed was that everything wasn't as bad as the wasteland, being maybe a couple decades old rather than a couple centuries, and none of it had been bathed in nuclear fire. But it was all cramped and pushed together; this main area reminded him of the market at Rivet City. He eyed the various doors and open passages, and he wondered just how far out this complex extended.

"There's a few hundred of us," Victor explained. "A lot of people were already used to living and working underground back before Mountain Glenn fell, around the old train station. And a few of us were engineers, and we had Orion and a couple huntsman to keep us safe, so…" He waved his hand before the remnant of civilization. "We made it work."

"Yeah. I can see that."

And Orion managed to get all of this? Well, he did tell me he found a new family here.

"We're a pretty small village now," Victor said. "The older types say it's a lot different than living in Mountain Glenn in its heyday, or living in Vale." He nodded contentedly. "But we all like it this way. We don't see it as a small village so much as a big family, right?"

"Yeah."

Back in the wasteland, the smaller communities were so close-knit. Totally different from how places like Rivet City were run, even if it was fairly meager with a few thousand residents.

"It's impressive," Jaune said. "Life always manages to find a way, huh? When everything falls apart."

"It does," Victor said with a smile. "We're all proud here." He nodded to one of the halls and walked that way. "But if we're late, then Orion'll chew me out."

"Yeah…" Jaune nodded despondently. He followed, but his mind and his eyes stayed tracked on the post-apocalyptic display. He saw more people come out of the tunnels, dozens coming as news of his arrivals spread. From little kids to old citizens, people eyed him warily, excitedly, curiously. He saw Cass and Khan pointing and talking to others around them.

All eyes on him.

He gulped and turned away, then quickened his pace to get beside Victor.

It felt… weird. So weird. So weird.

He might as well have been back on Earth, back in the wasteland. There was a deathclaw here. There was a ruined city. There was a cramped, ramshackle town of survivors. What the hell else was gonna show up?

The familiarity was so uncanny and uncomfortable—it felt like he'd crawled back into an old, long-discarded set of clothes that didn't quite fit him anymore.

They passed into a long tunnel. Jaune was flanked on either side by windows which looked out into tight rooms full of plants suspended in vats of water, flashed with bright lights.

"Our hydroponics," Victor explained. "It's kept all of us from starving after they weren't able to scrounge up any more from the ruins."

"Huh." Jaune didn't know exactly what to say. "You've done everything to live down here…"

"Yup."

"Why? Why not just move back to Vale?"

Victor snorted. "When Mountain Glenn was founded forty years ago, Vale hadn't had new elections in a decade. The government used the Faunus Wars and tensions with Mistral to let them stomp on democracy." Victor crossed his arms and sneered. "So a lot of people started to get out of the city proper and set up something of their own… Vale let them do it, so long as they kept paying taxes. It sorta worked out for a while.

"But even after Vale democratized a little again, there was a lot of animosity. People in Mountain Glenn didn't even get a proportional amount of votes in the council, but they still think we should live by their laws? Pay their taxes?"

They passed the hydroponics and came through a door, into a dank and smelly rock tunnel. Victor's speech got ever more impassioned.

"My parents were part of a movement to get an independence referendum for Mountain Glenn. We were a respectable city, one founded on clean politics and good people, unlike the cesspool that Vale had turned into. We were founded on good ideas, which Vale tried to override by saying we were part of their expansion initiative, that they owned us.

"Eighteen years ago, when the initial wall fell, Vale could have sent in troops and hunters from the main city by the giant subway. They could have. They could have scrambled them in on time.

"But they didn't, because they wanted to teach us a lesson. They wanted to make it so we realized we relied on them for help against the Grimm. And because they didn't help us in time, the invasion got bigger before we knew it, and the entire city fell.

"So yeah," he said gruffly, "we'd rather live by ourselves out here, underground, out of sight, out of mind—free."

"Damn…"

For a minute, there was no sound but their footsteps on the ground. They passed by a few more doors with big signs on them labeled things like: 'spare parts' or 'fermenting foods'. Their trek through the storage area was awkwardly quiet.

Until Victor cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said, "just always get worked up about it."

"I can get why," Jaune said. "How do you know Vale abandoned you?"

"Some of the first few survivors were huntsman and cops," Victor explained. "They told us what happened. They told us that the dispatcher from Vale lectured them about needing help and how they could handle it on their own for a while if they really wanted to be independent, orders from the Prime Councilor.

"So nope, nobody's ever thought about going back to Vale. Not since the Prime Councilor's the same damn guy."

"Yeah…" Jaune said. He'd paid enough attention in history and to the news to know that Vale had had the same Prime Councilor for over twenty years. It seemed that almost like nobody liked him… but he stayed in power because he made sure to keep funding some of the more popular government programs while demonizing and splitting up his opponents so they couldn't form coalitions against him, all while keeping the electoral map rigged to benefit his party and their allies in gerrymandering. His party had long since lost a majority in the council, so he'd been leading shaky minority or coalition governments for over a decade, governments that were barely capable of any legislating, always gridlocked and stagnant.

And somehow, people were apathetic enough to allow all that. Were they just afraid of change? Were they just glad that someone was keeping the Grimm away?

"PC Sparrow," Victor said with disgust. "Until he's dead and gone, nobody here is going back to Vale. There's nothing we can prove, but we know it. We all know it."

Shrewd and intelligent, Sparrow always found a way to hold on… though the bloated stagnation and allegations of corruption were set to make the next election his toughest yet, or so Jaune had heard.

They both came upon a final door, this one large and with a sign marked: Council Room. But before they went inside, Victor turned around for a final word:

"Vale was supposed to be a beacon of freedom," he said. "After the Great War, it was the only real place that seemed to have any hope. Vacuo immediately fell into a civil war that still hasn't really ended. Atlas was still a dictatorship that hated creativity and expression. Mistral's King was a senile old psycho, and their nobility didn't want anybody voting for anything.

"But in Vale? The king didn't have any heirs, and he didn't designate any. He helped mend the constitution to make sure Vale would become a republic, no king again. In Vale, people were free to be whoever they wanted… before the Faunus Wars. Before stupid racist humans took control and promised everybody that the mean animals would be beaten if only they gave up a bunch of their rights, no election for a decade, clamp down on the press. Then let corruption rule.

"That trash National Unity Party that was made then has been a cancer on Vale ever since, and Sparrow's been the head of that snake for years. We'd all rather stay out here on our own, elect our own leaders, take care of ourselves."

Victor sighed. Then he awkwardly looked away during the following quiet, his passion leaving off with uncomfortable quiet.

"Sorry, but we feel pretty strong about all that here."

"Yeah, I can tell," Jaune said. He'd heard plenty of things about Sparrow that weren't all that great. Allegations of embezzling and fraud, for one. Slashes to public funds. Gerrymandering. Stricter press laws.

Hm. It was all nothing compared to the trash and decay of the wasteland. Officials nearly everywhere were corrupt and self-serving. Integrity was the exception, not the rule. Only the Brotherhood and the Regulators actually seemed any good.

So he'd been quick to brush off politics and its shortcomings here in Vale, knowing everything could be so, so much worse. And it wasn't like his other friends talked about it much.

Just another reminder that the people on Remnant were just like the ones on Earth.

"Well," Victor said. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking for words. "Sorry for ranting." He chuckled dryly. "But everybody here will go off when you mention Vale…"

"I get it," jaune said. He pointed to the door. "The council through here?"

"Oh, yeah." Victor nodded and pulled back on the heavy, rusted handle. "Shouldn't delay you any more…"

"It's alright. Really interesting to hear, actually." Jaune shrugged. "Just… different priorities at the moment."

"Right," Victor said, nodding again. He wrenched the door open.

"About time," called a woman from the room within. "Are you Jaune?"

He stepped into the new room. It was a small lobby, a little space with plenty of chairs around the walls. A stocky and tough-looking woman stood inside, just in front of another door. She had a pistol strapped to her waist and one arm in a sling. Two dog ears pointed straight up out of her head.

Before Jaune could answer her, Victor spoke for him: "Yeah this is Orion's guy. And by the way, caught your sister trying to sneak out with Kahn again."

The woman's stoic face flashed with surprise, then narrowed into a scowl. "That idiot," she said. "I'll tear her apart later, just leave us for now."

"Gotcha," Victor said hastily. He swallowed and turned to Jaune. "That's, uh, Vanessa." He furtively looked back at the woman, then silently stepped away and let Jaune walk through.

The door was closed behind him, and Jaune was left alone with the new woman.

"Vanessa Pride," the woman said. "I'm a deputy here in Mountain Glenn, Orion's second in command." She marched forward and put out her good hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

He grasped her hand and looked her in the eye as he shook. "Same."

Her grip was strong but without the tell-tale strength of aura. He was still impressed by how firm it was, as well as by her strong demeanor.

Vanessa nodded and stepped back; it seemed he'd had the same effect on her. "Anyone with Orion's respect has a place here with us. I'm happy to have your help." She tilted her head to the main door. "The council's waiting."

"Then let's get to it."

She marched to the door, grabbed the heavy handle with her good hand, twisted it and pulled. The door grated as she hauled it open, and Jaune thanked her as he walked through.

The room was large (by the standards of the cramped subterranean tunnels and dwellings) and well-lit by bright spotlights set into the walls. A huge, dark hole opened up into the ceiling. Several people sat around a large round table which was made of steel plates soldered together in typical post-apocalypse fashion.

The first person he noticed was, of course, Orion. Considering there was no other entrance or exit, he assumed the deathclaw must have come in through the ceiling-hole. Now in much better light, he was able to observe him more clearly than before; better, in fact, than he'd ever observed any living deathclaw. Brutal scars lined the creature's hide, proof of long years in the fight. Other than that, the most noticeable new detail was that he wore pants. Or shorts. Rough canvas shorts that must have been specially made for him.

A deathclaw wearing pants. Now I've really seen it all.

"Hm. Jaune," Orion called. He motioned for him to take a seat at a chair beside him.

Jaune nodded and did so, as Vanessa closed the door behind them. Sitting down, he took note of the others in the room. A few older men and women wearing clothes that would pass for nice in the wasteland, decorated robes and old suits and dresses. Thirteen in all, including Orion. They seemed perfectly at ease sitting at a table with a monster.

Orion growled, his way of calling attention.

"Fellow councilors," he said. "I present Jaune Arc, a new friend to Mountain Glenn." He pointed one claw at Jaune.

All eyes were on him.

He didn't know which made him more uncomfortable: having the sharp point of a deathclaw's claw mere inches from his face, or having a roomful of eyes picking him apart.

He quickly determined it was the latter.

"Um, hello," he said, meagerly waving his hand. He was quiet then, hoping Orion would cover for him from there.

"I have told them of you," Orion explained to Jaune. "That we are from Vacuo, and I know your family."

Jaune nodded curtly. Hopefully their lie would be enough.

"And you're willing to help us drive out those faunus at the train station?" one of the councilors asked.

"Of course," Jaune replied. He crossed his arms, resolute. "It's my mission and the mission of my team to destroy them. Either that, or report their presence back to Vale."

He immediately realized he should not have said that last part.

The councilors instantly darkened. Their reactions ranged from fear to panic to anger at the simple mention of Vale's name—no, at the possibility that Vale might come snooping back.

"I won't!" Jaune raised up his hands and tried to console the suddenly agitated group. "Victor told me how much you hate Vale, so I won't tell them anything about you. But I will have to make a report back that the White Fang were here."

"So if we destroy them now," Orion said, "then you can report as much and Vale will not send forces in."

"Um…"

Jaune nervously looked back and forth between Orion and the councilors, who were leaning over in their seats, scrutinizing him now with an intensity that outmatched their earlier mix of caution and curiosity.

Damn, it was times like this he wished he still wore a mask. It was so much easier to be imposing, to cut yourself off from others, to get over the usual hurdles of anxiety and speech.

But back then, in the time of the Lone Wanderer, all of his interactions had been full of threats and intimidation. Time to be a different person. Time to be Jaune Arc.

Breathe deep. Hold. Release.

"We can destroy them," Jaune said resolutely. He straightened his posture and nodded. "We can do it. Now. Vale won't have to send any big force in to wipe them out. But I'm sure some extra teams of investigators will be sent out after to look into what they were doing here."

That clearly unsettled the councilors, but it had to be said.

"I'm sorry but it's the truth. There's no way I can prevent at least some extra attention here. I have a team. I'll keep them in the dark about you all as best as I can." He leaned forward in his seat and clasped his hands together. "I promise that I know what you feel. I know what it feels like not to trust an authority, to want to be hidden. I know that and I'll protect that. I will."

His words had weight, and the councilors sensed his sincerity. Some of them looked a little less anxious, but the obvious reality of Vale's attention coming dangerously close to their thus-far hidden village clearly unsettled them.

"It will be fine," said one councilor. "We'll do what we did in the early days: cut off tunnels and restrict access. That's how we stayed hidden back when the search parties and patrols from Vale after the city's fall."

"There will be dissent among the youngsters," said an old councilor, a pale and greying human.

"They understand the value of our secrecy," said a markedly younger councilor, a dark-skinned girl with bunny ears springing out of her head. "If we explain it well, then we can put up a referendum and tight movement restraints will pass easily.

"And anyone can leave if they don't like being cooped up more," the councilor continued. She looked to Jaune. "We're going to have to accept that Vale is going to come snooping around. It's not like we can do anything about Jaune or his team giving the report."

Not unless they were willing to stop him.

That was the unsaid possibility, but Jaune was grateful that none of them even mentioned it. Was it because they were good people? Or was it just because they knew Orion would never allow the action?

He scooted his chair a bit closer to the deathclaw, finding comfort in his monstrous new friend's protection and approval.

"Jaune and his team are hunters," Orion said. His deep, loud voice easily flatted the other councilors' discussion and took command of the room. "They and I can crush the White Fang."

"Are you sure of that?" said the older councilor. "Our scouting reports at least fifty of them, all armed. And they aren't bad shots, if what they did to Vanessa is an indicator."

Jaune looked back to Vanessa; more specifically, he eyed her cast. Evidently, she hadn't been as careful as she should have when scouting.

"But most of them don't have aura," the elder said. "I know from experience that one hunter can take on ten of them without a problem. Hell, if they were all without aura, Orion could have torn them apart a long time ago." He shook his head. "If only."

"But some of them do?" Jaune asked.

"I know so," Orion said. "People with aura feel different."

"Feel?" Jaune looked to him curiously.

"My semblance," Orion explained. He brought up a claw and pointed at his beady yellow eyes. "Very simply, I can see people's souls. Hm. It's very hard to explain. More like I can feel or track people, through rock and walls. I can sense them, find them."

Hunt them. Jaune didn't say aloud his observation, but a part of him panicked at the thought of a deathclaw with such advanced stalking prowess.

"The two in gas masks have aura," Orion said. "As does the one with a hat and a cane, and the little one with an umbrella."

"Ah shit." Jaune couldn't stop from swearing. But he didn't care, more concerned by the worsening situation. He answered the others' curious looks: "Roman Torchwick, Neopolitan and Gas Masks. They're all tough criminals from Vale who work with the White Fang. I've fought them before, and they're bad news."

The councilors nervously looked at each other.

"Me, my team and Orion could probably take them," Jaune said. "But it'd be tough, and then there are all the other White Fang to deal with, too."

"And the robots," the young councilor said with a sigh.

"Aw come on," Jaune said. He groaned. "They have robots too?"

"Large mechanized suits," Orion said.

"Yeah I know what you're talking about," Jaune said. "They stole some a while ago, but I didn't know they brought them out here. Must really want to keep this operation safe… or…"

"They're preparing an attack," Orion said. "Hm. We've thought as much. They've cleared the old tunnel to Vale and loaded a train with huge amounts of dust. They might be trying to bring it into the city—"

"But they took it out of the city and brought it here," Jaune said. "They've been stealing the stuff in Vale and throughout the country for months. They're bringing it here…"

"They're planning something bad for Vale," said Orion.

"A part of me wants to let it happen…" said the elder councilor.

"We can't sink to Sparrow's level!" The young councilor reared on her elder.

"I said a part of me," said the elder. "A small, bitter part"- he scowled and shook his head -"that remembers well this city's fall No. Of course we're going to stop this. I propose we authorize deployment of the militia immediately, to support Orion and Jaune's team in eliminating the White Fang."

The room erupted in chatter.

"But that will surely expose us!" called one of the councilors.

"So you propose we sit back and let others solve our problems?" the elder asked. "Where is your honor?"

"The main priority is getting rid of these White Fang," said the youngest. On the table, her hands balled into fists, and her bunny ears stood ramrod straight. "If that exposes us to the rest of Jaune's team and possibly the scrutiny of Vale, then so be it. We need to get rid of those thugs, for our own safety and the safety of others."

"I couldn't put it better myself," said the elder.

"Well," Jaune said, "I'd like to get a detailed layout of the station and info on their forces, so then we can plan out—"

The loud grating of the opening door cut off Jaune and ended the conversation. They turned and saw Victor, a nervous look on his sweaty face. He spent a moment to catch his breath, having clearly run there.

"They caught somebody!" he said. "The scouts radioed in: the White Fang caught somebody."

"Who?" Orion asked.

Victor gulped nervously, then looked at Jaune. Well, he looked at Jaune for just a second, before averting his gaze to the floor.

"Um, by the description, I think it's one of Jaune's teammates, the guy in green."

Aw come on Ren, you're supposed to be the ninja! But in this case, you're serving as a plot device to speed the end of the Mountain Glenn arc. I'm ending it shorter here because next chapter's pacing will be much faster, filled with panic and violence.

For all of you who've been waiting for some gruesome fallout-style violence from our favorite chainsword-wielding reforming edgelord, hold onto your butts.

And as always, please leave any reviews and questions you please.